GENERAL INFOMATION

WHAT IS MAAFA?
maafa reflections...
"By the time we arrived at the Maafa I had only slept for about an hour in the past two days, which was in the car ride on the way there. The night before was our high school homecoming, and I knew I could easily blow it off, but I felt like I really needed to be there and I knew I needed to bring my friends to share the experience. As the morning progressed I started to wake up and the poem and song really hit home
because I love doing those things myself. I thought it was weird that I had not heard of it before, because I saw so many people I knew there. The entire experience was a blessing and I was glad to see other people around my age that want to learn about their heritage and culture. It's like the song said....it is unfortunate that my first language is English and not that of an African tribe."
-Savannah Parker (11th grade, 16 years)


"The Maafa was a very enlightening experience. I learned a lot of new
things about myself and my friends, even though it was extremely early
in the morning and I had a really long night before. I feel like we
really should not have complained about it being so early, considering
that getting up early one day and being tired for the rest of the week is
nothing compared to what our ancestors went through. We all tried to
get involved and I loved seeing my friends excited about our culture."
-Aidan Fleming-Loville (12th grade, 17 years)


"The Maafa was a wonderful experience that I wish that every young African American could have. It made me dig inside of myself and remember where I came from. I am proud to say that I am African American. And I am even more thankful to my ancestors who died for me to have that right."
-Arielle Dixon (11th grade, 16 years)


"I thought the Maafa was very interesting. I liked it because I have never been a part of something like that before. My favorite part was when we all got to participate in the dancing. The whole experience brought me and my friends closer together."
-Chelsea Morris (10th grade, 15years)


"I thought it was a very uplifting experience that brought me closer to my African roots."
-Lauren Quick (11th grade, 16 years)


Wanda Sabir (founder) at Ocean beach Maafa ceromony 2005 Photo: TaSin Sabir

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS
'Maafa Reader' project (click for more information)
Deadline: until complete

To celebrate the 10th anniversary (2005) of the San Francisco Bay Area's "Black Holocaust Remembrance," scholars, poets, writers and artists are invited to submit work for inclusion in the "Maafa Reader." The goal is to have a reflective record of the various ways African people in the Diaspora recall the Middle Passage, honor the ancestors and heal the trauma.
We hope the reach is national and international, drawing on traumatic stories or residual memories and the consequences of having been forcefully removed from our homeland five centuries ago.
The call is also for those left in Alkebulan (ancient name for Africa) to reflect on the devastation this loss wrought on the families and communities left behind. What was the cultural drain to the collective consciousness? What should or how does the New Afrikan feel about the Motherland, a place where most of us have never lived? Who's responsible for our enslavement? Can we forgive those who sold us, those who bought us?

What is the link between colonialism and enslavement? Are the consequences of the two similar? What role did religion play in the colonizing of Africa? Why are so many Africans in the Diaspora Christian or Muslim, is this in itself a contradiction and or a barrier to true mental and spiritual liberation? Can holding onto any tools: language, religion, history, or systems of government lead to anything positive, if while under colonial rule or enslavement, the only beneficiary was the white power structure?

We are especially interested in the stories of incarcerated African men, women and children and children in group homes and foster care. This in itself is its own special type of Maafa.
Stories of those impacted by Hurricane Katrina and this government’s neglect and weak response to the predominately African American affected populations are also desired. Connections between this Maafa and that experienced by ancestors of those Alabama, Louisiana, and Mississippi (now Texas) natives are evident. Oral histories, along with photographs of key moments in our diasporic history, are encouraged.

Reflect on the whole notion of freedom. What does it mean to be free? And while you're at it, what about what's due to those who labored for centuries without pay? Are reparations in order?
Choose your topic. There is no length requirement; just be clear, succinct and edited. Submissions may be made by email in Microsoft Word or text file to mail@maafasfbayarea.com or by mail to Anthology Editor, P.O. Box 30756, Oakland, CA 94604.

Please include a short bio - no more than 50 words - with your work. You will be notified as to whether or not your submission was accepted. This call is being reissued because the response was insufficient.


Maafa at Ocean Beach 2005
Photo: TaSin Sabir

Maafa at Ocean Beach 2008
Photo: TaSin Sabir

Maafa at Ocean Beach 2008
Photo: TaSin Sabir


Maafa at Ocean Beach 2008
Photo: TaSin Sabir

WANDA ALI BATIN SABIR *founder


Wanda Sabir
Photo: TaSin Sabir

Wanda Sabir is the founder of the Maafa ritual and surrounding events in the San Francisco bay area. She has been doing this for over ten years now.

 

"It goes without question that Black people, particularly those in the Western Hemisphere suffering from Post-traumatic Slavery Syndrome, are more in need than others in the African Diaspora for a healing, a collective laying on of hands, a new formula, attitude, way of looking at the world and our place in it that promotes mental and emotional health and well-being.

The Maafa Ritual helps us put the situation in a context as we recall those painful memories and lay them to rest, this spiritual return to the ships, plantations, auction blocks … dungeon, deserted beach – cyclical movements turning then releasing the tight bands of subconsciousness which keep us tense, frightened and constrained … stuck. The path to wellness, to health, is both individual and collective. It’s also ongoing. "

 

click here to view Wanda's resume

more information on the...
Maafa Reader Narrative
By Wanda Sabir

The story of African people and how they arrived in America is an opera, tragic in its simplicity, a true story which remains unexamined, its descendents trapped in memories too horrific to speak, yet speak we must. I am interested in these stories.

The Maafa or "the calamity" in the Kiswahili language, is a part of a larger vision, one where Sankofa - Africans "going back to fetch it," fetching resources and guidance from the ancestors celebrated in the Maafa ritual," and Ayaresa - "health and well-being," also have equal value. If a people do not remember and celebrate their past-- Sankofa, they really have no sense of who they are and cannot effectively move forward with Ayaresa.

The book project is a means to establish a dialogue, a conversation between descents of enslaved Africans who had to create a new life when everything familiar was taken away.

The book will be divided into sections: At Home, Taken, In Transit, Disconnected, Lost, and Found. Each section will begin with a preface, written by the editor, which sets the tone for the selections to come - from the artists and scholars whose work was accepted.

This book will also discuss this need for closure, discussion and acknowledgement, how else can one explain the simultaneous creation of Maafa rituals throughout America in Oakland, New York, Galveston, Chicago, Seattle, Detroit, and New Orleans. Something is definitely in the air. I'd like the opportunity to explore these phenomena in a literary work.

Akintiunde Kofi Camara, creator of Eintou, a unique African American poetic form and African American historico-cultural philosophy with the musical strategies of the blues and jazz, writes in a submission to the Maafa Reader Project:

Were I a reader of African humanity,
upon whose pages
was inscribed the wisdoms of the ages,
then the Maafa would be a 350 paged chapter
of diatribes on my lowest, darkest hour,
during which white power soured the sweet taste of liberty,
and his greed lead blindly to chains, whips
and sordid quips about colored skin..


Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz writes in Hush Child Hush, another submission to the Maafa Reader Project:

In May 1991, the United States General Services Administration began preliminary work for a federal office tower at Broadway and Duane Streets and the former gravesite, stretching five acres, was unearthed. The land had been allocated to the city's black population, some free, most enslaved, in the late 1600's when even cemeteries were segregated. With the passage of time, the original intent of the land became memory until the excavation more than a decade ago. I knew we wouldn't always be forgotten.

Kenneth McManus writes in his submission to the Maafa Reader Project:

Memory is key
In the recounting of past woe
And no mark
Serves as a better guide
Than the road map of keloid
Tissue
On my great-great grandmother's
Or great-great grandfather's
Back

Nothing raises up
Those memories
Like that
terrible
scar tissue
Linking one beating
To the next..

Those keloids
Tell a keen story
And make my tender back
Concave
To avoid
The next anguished slap
Of leather..


Mwatabu S. Okantah writes in his submission: "Pilgrimage: Home to Africa,"
.I come home to Africa to reclaim our untold story and to sink my spiritual roots into native soil. I come to Africa to journey into our collective black Self. I was in Senegal because the winding river or my poetry had emptied into Afreekan ocean, where along the battered coastline of our endurance stood Cheikh Anta Diop, a towering lighthouse, guiding the wandering and the lost into safe shores. .He provided us with the means to restore the historical continuity, and dignity, in our lives. Late in the winter of 1988, I had been commissioned to write an epic poem in his honor.


The European Slave Trade begun by the Portuguese in the 1490s, then extended into a North American market by the Spaniards in November, 1526, followed by the English in August, 1916, not only disrupted the lives of African people, it shook the world at its foundation, a slippery and unstable precipice all nations, especially those initial western nations still retain at its foundation.

The Maafa, a tragedy and catastrophe of enormous consequences affects all of us in ways imaginable and unimagined. It is my hope that this Reader will bring those hidden variables to the forefront: the humanity issues, the social justice issues, the mental and physical health issues, the historic issues, and the reciprocity issues.

The ordeal legally ended on January 1, 1863, by President Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, did not address the bigotry and hatred that would fuel a race and class war that continues into the twenty-first century, a war that denies African American citizens their human rights, as spelled out in the United Nations Charter, not to mention equal rights guaranteed by the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights.

The Civil Rights Act of 1965 and subsequent laws, while addressing some of the legal inequities that directly impact African Americans, have not touched the psychological and economic aftermath of this great calamity or Maafa on the African American citizens here in this United States, not to mention Africa and the rest of the African Diaspora.

The Maafa Reader Project will look at the broad spectrum of this history-African history which is American history through, as previously mentioned: poetry, prose, scholarly research, photography and other creative genres.

The goal is a greater understanding of this period in world history and its impact on society in cities like Oakland, California and parallel developments elsewhere like Johannesburg, South Africa.

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